Boromir is Not Left Handed
by Illwynd
Summary: Crossover of LotR and the Princess Bride. The title says it all.


Title: Boromir is not left-handed  
Author: illwynd  
Disclaimer: I own nothing!  
Rating: PG  
Summary: LotR/The Princess Bride crossover.  
Notes: The Sindarin terms are Sindarin, though probably poorly translated, but they are not, to my knowledge, real sword-fighting terms. Meh, just the best I could do on the spur of the moment. This started out script-like and probably funnier than this version, but ffnet didn't like that. Grr.

At Amon Hen, the Uruks had come upon Boromir, and he fought them fiercely. He had slain most of the current wave of Uruks. The hobbits tentatively hid in the bushes behind him, but one Uruk remained, a big Uruk with a mangled-looking face in which only one eye could be seen. The circled, appraising each other, neither wanting to make the first move.

Suddenly, as they circled, Boromir spoke. "I do not mean to pry, but you don't, by any chance, have a great eye wreathed in flame?"

"Do you always begin conversations this way?" replied the Uruk.

"It's just that my mother was killed by the shadow that fell on our land, the cause of which was the Dark One with his Great Fiery Eye."

The Uruk grunted. "How old were you?"

"I was ten years old. When I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to the study of warfare, so that I will someday be able to avenge my mother's death. When I meet the Dark Lord, I will go up to him and say "My name is Boromir of Gondor. You killed my mother. Prepare to die.""

"You've done nothing but study warfare?"

"More pursuit than study, lately. You see, I cannot get to him. It's been 30 years now, I'm starting to lose confidence. I just came on this journey to blow some time."

"Well, I hope you find him someday."

"Thank you. But anyway, shall we get on with it?"

"Why not," the Uruk answered with a shrug.

"You seem a decent fellow," Boromir grinned, "I hate to kill you."

"You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die."

"So... let us begin!" Then Boromir lifted his horn, and blew a mighty note on it before raising his sword in his left hand and preparing for battle.

There and then began of one of the greatest sword fights ever. They circled, slowly, and each time one made the tiniest feint, the other countered easily and skillfully. After a minute of two of this, they closed some distance and began fighting in earnest. Their swords crossed, again and again, but neither could do damage to the other. Boromir pressed on, forcing the Uruk to retreat along the rocky slope behind him.

"Ah! So you are using Orodreth's defense against me?" said Boromir as he fought.

"I thought it fitting, considering the rocky terrain."

"You must expect me to attack with emaeth..." Boromir replied as he shifted his style, beginning to give the Uruk a hard time.

"...Naturally..." said the Uruk, trying to keep up.

"But I find dírnaith megil cancels out emaeth, don't you?"

The Uruk was now on the edge of a ledge, nowhere to go, so he jumped, rather clumsily, backwards onto the ground a little ways below.

"Unless the enemy has studied his gellui bronad..." Boromir continued as he leapt over the Uruk below, turning in midair and landing perfectly, facing his enemy, "...which I have!"

They continued fighting, and the battle grew fierce. Neither one came close to making an error, but their swords flew so fast they became a blur. Boromir was being edged back towards the rocky cliffside.

"You're good!" he said, appearing as if he were tiring.

"Thank you. I've worked hard to become so!"

Boromir was being edged ever closer to the cliffside, but he grinned like a madman. "I must admit, you are better than I am!"

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because I know something you don't know!"

"And what is that?" queried the Uruk.

"I am not left-handed!" With a sudden, deft move, he tossed his sword up, caught it with his right hand, and immediately the tide of battle turned.

The Uruk was forced back. Everything he tried failed miserably, and it began to look like Boromir would win, when… suddenly, the second wave of Uruks came out of the trees. Uruk archers fired as one at Boromir, and in moments he resembled a pincushion, falling to the ground, bleeding profusely.

"Aww, c'mon, what did you guys have to do that for, ruined a perfectly good crossover! And I hadn't even gotten to switch hands yet either!" griped the Uruk who had been fighting Boromir but moments before.

"Well, the book says we get to shoot him! He's supposed to die, and knowing you, you'd 'ave just given him a whack on the head, saying something about "I would as soon destroy a stained-glass window as an artist like yourself" just for the sake of some silly crossover! We got the halflings, it's time to go!" replied one of the Uruk archers.

"Oh all right. Have it your way!"

-end-


End file.
